


Measures

by ruebellab



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 08:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruebellab/pseuds/ruebellab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn’t look at her right away, but instead at her small warm hand flat against the wool of his jumper. They touch all the time, hand in hand, they hug, and there are even the occasional chaste kisses pressed to foreheads or cheeks in relief or excitement. The Doctor and Rose touch all the time, just never like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Measures

She’s never actually seen him asleep.

As far as Rose knows, he doesn’t – not much anyway, and certainly never like this.

But here he is, under the jump-seat, head tilted and mouth slightly open. She wonders if she should wake him, or whether she should let him stay as he is. She wonders how tired he must have been, just to fall asleep like that on the console room floor. She wonders when the last time he slept – whether the Doctor dreams or has nightmares.

And while she’s busy wondering, Rose realizes she’s staring.

It’s so much easier like this – with that blue flame gaze of his shut away. Like this, she can look all she wants, and oh how she has wanted to. 

Here, she doesn’t need to wait for one of his long technical speeches to study the softness of his lips or the sharp cut of his jaw as he talks, just as she doesn’t need to linger out of sight, as he tinkers with the console, hoping he won’t catch her wondering what it would be like to run her tongue down the chorded muscle of his throat.

Like this, Rose is free to drink him in, without pretence or modesty.

Sure, she’d always noticed – how could she not – and until now noticing has always been enough. No, now she wants to do much more than just noticing and wondering.

Rose drops to the grating, her mind working at light speed trying to decide her next move and she tries to think less of the ‘what if he’s cross with me’ and more of the ‘what if this is finally it’ before her hand comes to rest in the centre of his chest.

Under her palm, Rose can feel the unusual rhythm of those two magnificent hearts and a beat later, she realizes, his pulse has quickened.

He doesn’t look at her right away, but instead at her small warm hand flat against the wool of his jumper. They touch all the time, hand in hand, they hug, and there are even the occasional chaste kisses pressed to foreheads or cheeks in relief or excitement. The Doctor and Rose touch all the time, just never like this.

It’s nothing really, but the moment the Doctor’s eyes meet hers, Rose knows her intent is clear.

For a moment it looks as if he’s going to deflect her – draw her attention away or return to work on his engines – but with a soft, almost sad smile, he slides his hand under hers and brings it to rest on the grating between them.

Her cheeks burn, and Rose feels foolish for an instant – embarrassed.

'Why not?'

She doesn’t sound petulant, and Rose is thankful for that.

'A lot of reasons,' the Doctor says, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand. There's such an unknowable, impossible depth to his eyes that it makes Rose want to shrink away like the tiny little blip in time that she is.

'Okay.'

Her voice is small, too, and she wonders if he measures those reasons in lifetimes – all the lifetimes he will know and unknow long after even her memory is gone.

The Doctor’s eyebrows raise to his hairline as nearly a minute of silence passes between them.

'Who are you and where's Rose Tyler?'

'What?'

'That's it – you're just gonna let it go like that?'

'You as good as said no.'

'That's never stopped you before,' and there's as much accusation as there is affection in his tone.

'It's all right – I get it. Lots of reasons. Lots of big important, time and space, aliens and vortexes reasons – I get it.'

'That's never stopped you either.'

'What am I 'spose to do, then?'

She watches as he pulls her hand onto his lap and begins to draw a complicated pattern of swirls into her palm with one long finger.

'What you usually do.'

His voice is different – that northern burr, deeper, richer – and his eyes, when had they become so dark?

'What's that?' She breathes, and catches that scent – that wholly unique scent that is all him. 

'Challenge me – tell me I'm wrong – make me remember that a second with you can stand up to a century alone – and win – reasons be damned.'

Rose can’t help but smile, and it’s a warm soft smile that the Doctor just can’t help but notice.

'Do I really do all that?' She asks, tongue playing at her teeth.

'And more.'

'Sometimes it just needs sayin', you know.'

His fingers have slowed against her palm and in one sweeping motion the Doctor pulls her onto his lap, sliding her hand back to the centre of his chest.

'Now, what was it you were planning before I interrupted with all those silly reasons?'

Rose is sure she’s never smiled like this before, never been quite this happy – her cheeks aching with glee, she brings her face a breath away from his and their noses bump.

'Dunno,’ she grips a fistful of jumper.

'Somethin'’ she passes her lips feather light over his.

‘Like,’ she rocks her hips ever so slightly and Rose can feel his desire through their layers of denim.

'This?' The Doctor asks, and without another moment's hesitation, his fingers lace through her hair, and he's pulling her mouth to meet his.

. . .


End file.
